It appears as if the edge,
from where we sit abrupt as a ledge,
surrounds us looking back.

We only see so far,
and know not when where we are;
no chart exists of this a veiled existence.

Yet venturing still,
past yonder metaphysical hill,
there must be more bubbles beyond the bubble observed thus far.

As here we know not where
from elsewhere likely others stare
at the birth of the sun in all its glorious potential.

For the past all hear
while the now draws near;
perspectives on futures by nature speculation.

Endless elliptical expanse
expanding with every glance,
a totem to totality in perpetual motion.